


Veiled Truth

by LilyAngorian



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, May's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAngorian/pseuds/LilyAngorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few of May's thoughts, the morning of her wedding day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veiled Truth

She'd expected some fiery-blooded beauty with a temper to match. The type to stand behind him and wrap a hand across his chest, not beside him: her touch hesitant over the small of his back. She'd wanted Grace to be somewhat like Esme, spirit unbroken, flushed with youth and desire. Everything that May was not. At least then she could have accepted that she was no competition. 

But Grace was far more similar to her than she suspected Tommy had realised. Haunted by shadows, with an unnatural defiance, something borne of learning and nurtured. Quite different to what she had seen in Esme and Polly and the few other gypsy women she had come across: the resistance that seeped from every fibre with a passion that couldn't be taught. Grace seemed cold in comparison. Beautiful, elegant, sharp - but cold. 

May crossed to the dresser, ran her hands over her waist, down across her hips. The thick lace of the bodice felt rough against her fingertips, but the rest of the fabric simply felt cool to the touch. She eyed herself critically in the mirror, twisting so that she could see herself in side profile, playing with the strands of hair that framed her face. Dark hair, dark eyes. Not like Grace. 

Dark hair, soft but not silky. Dark eyes, heavy with a lack of sleep, skin below them tinged with purple. Haunted. There wasn't another word for it, besides gaunt, and that seemed a little cruel even by her own critical standards. She searched for something she wanted to see, something she could appreciate. The dress was perfect, if a little low cut and stark in the morning light. Virginal white had seemed a small triumph when she had chosen it - like a rebirth -but the veil abandoned on the dresser, that she had so-far neglected to try on, was a mark of her discomfort. Somehow she still felt like a fraud. 

Grace. May. Both named with purity in mind, a freshness, beauty and charm. Surely there was something of that left in her? In her eyes perhaps, lost as they could seem upon occasion. Surely there had to be something left.

When she remembered his hands on her, when she could close her eyes and feel his touch shedding every black mark on her skin, then she might be able to pretend that everything was fine. That this was right. But when she woke, when she felt only the quality of her sheets and saw only the glint of silver from her breakfast tray, she couldn’t pretend that it was anything other than what it was. 

She could waste her time sobbing, clinging to her insecurity as she had done so many times before, lock herself away from temptation. But it wouldn’t change the fact that Tommy was in her veins, under her skin, breathing her every breath. She could relent, allow him to pursue who he really wanted. But it wouldn’t quench the fire in her heart, the desperate heat between her legs. No, there was only one course of action open to her. 

She picked up the veil, toyed with it for a few moments, and then put it into place. This time it was her. For whatever reason. He’d chosen her.

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written anything for a while, but the new trailer inspired me to finish this short one. Hopefully I'll get back into writing some longer pieces soon :)


End file.
